Skip to main content

the lawn...part 2

The lawn on our property was finally planted on Monday - five days later than planned due to non-favourable weather conditions, but there was nothing we could do about that and I assured my landscaper that I wasn't worried about a slight delay. Monday turned out to be a perfect day for the job and we finished ahead of schedule. After 6.5 hours of labour, I let out a big sigh of relief as I surveyed the perfect black soil evenly spread and compacted to safely house its precious seeds. It rained the next day and that made my lawn and me very happy. Yesterday, however, the predicted rain never really materialised and I knew watering would have to commence. This was easier said than done.

I live in a town with very strict regulations regarding lawn care and the like. No pesticides, herbicides, or chemicals are allowed and water usage is kept down to a minimum. Last week I purchased the necessary permit from the town hall to water new vegetation and was somewhat shocked to find that I was only allowed to water my lawn from 9 pm to midnight for the 15 consecutive days the permit covered. My lawn-to-be is over 6500 square feet and I complained to the man who issued the permit that I doubted whether I could adequately water my yard in the allotted 3-hour time slot. He shrugged and suggested using 2 hoses. Obviously, he felt it was my problem and not his.

The problem with the 9 to 12 timeframe is that at least 2 to 3 times a week I have meetings to attend in the evenings and do not get home till 11 pm. Of greater consequence, I discovered last night, is the fact that it is DARK at that time! My husband and I returned from a meeting downtown last night around 11 pm. We immediately dragged out the hoses and set them up, one in the front yard and one in the back. After realising the settings on the sprinklers were wrong (it is really hard to read anything in the dim light of a single bulb on the deck 20 feet away), and the water pressure not adequate to run both at full spray, we adjusted and fiddled and finally got somewhat of a system going to move the sprinklers at 15 minute intervals and cover most of the pregnant earth with at least some measure of moisture. We also managed to muddy 2 pairs of pants and 4 shoes, implant deep footprints in the previously unmarred soil, get the neighbours’ house and half of the deck wet, and utter an unsanctified word or two.

I have a whole new appreciation for rain. Water and sun and heat in the right proportions will make my lawn grow. Rain means that my day will not have to include 3 hours of muddy, cold, and fumbling-in-the-dark watering that interrupts the evening’s activity every 15 minutes, and as I see the ever-increasing marks of hoses and feet criss-crossing the previously smooth ground, it also makes me wonder if I am doing more damage than good. Since God’s method of watering is far superior to man’s in evenness, coverage, no time limit, and efficiency without wear and tear on the ground, I pray for rain daily. I got ecstatic this morning when I heard that the weekend is looking less than sunny and clear.

I admit that the sigh of relief at seeing the seed in the ground on Monday afternoon was premature. The birth of anything new is exciting and it always feel like a major milestone has been reached, but we all too easily forget that the bulk of the work in bringing it to maturity is ahead and will include late nights, a lot of effort, a good amount of mess, and times of frustration when we reach our limits and seem to be making very little progress.

In the end, the growth is up to God. One plants, one waters, one nurtures, but God brings the multiplication.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

the songs we sing

NOTE: I am going to make some pretty strong statements below, but understand that it is my way of taking an honest, hard look at my own worship experience and practice. My desire is not to be overly critical, but to open up dialogue by questioning things I have assumed were totally fine and appropriate. In other words, I am preaching to myself. Feel free to listen in.

---------------------

When I am in a church meeting during the singing time, I sometimes find myself silent, unable to get the words past my lips. At times I just need a moment of stillness, time to listen, but other times, the words make me pause because I don't know that I can sing them honestly or with integrity. This is a good thing. We should never mindlessly or heartlessly sing songs just because everyone else is. We should care deeply about what we say in our sung, communal worship.

At their best, songs sung by the gathered body of Christ call to life what is already in us: the hope, the truth, the longing, t…

comedic timing

One of my favourite jokes goes like this:
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Interrupting cow
Interrupting cow w---
Moooooooo!!

Timing is important in both drama and comedy. A well-paced story draws the audience in and helps it invest in the characters, while a tale too hastily told or too long drawn out will fail to engage anyone. Surprise - something which interrupts the expected - is a creative use of timing and integral to any good story. If someone is reading a novel and everything unfolds in a predictable manner, they will probably wonder why they bothered reading the book. And so it is in life. Having life be predictable all of the time is not as calming as it sounds. We love surprises, especially good surprises like birthday parties, gifts, marriage proposals, and finding something that we thought was lost. Surprises are an important part of humour. A good joke is funny because it goes to a place you didn't expect it to go. Similarly, comedic timing allows something unexpected …

singing lessons

When I was a young child, a visiting preacher came to our country church. He brought his two daughters with him, and before he gave his sermon, they sang beautiful duets about Jesus. They had lovely voices which blended well. The preacher, meaning to impress on us their God-given musical talent, mentioned that the girls had never had any singing lessons. The congregation nodded and ooohhed in appreciation. I was puzzled. I didn't understand how not learning was a point of grace or even pride. After all, people who have natural abilities in sports, math, writing, art, or science find it extremely helpful to study under teachers who can aid them in their development and introduce them to things outside their own experience. Being self-taught (though sometimes the only option available to those with limited resources) is not a cause for pride or celebration. Why? Because that's just not how the communal, relational Creator set things up.

I have been singing since I was a child. …